Project by request for 'Arcane Reno'; version I begun 04/12/2012; version III started 04/03/2013;
Produced by BRN.Quil. Freely redistributable. Knot suitable for children - choking hazard. Finished 08/05/2013.
M/F Arcanine x Typhlosion: Feral, C/C, Adult, V(NiY).
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Produced by BRN.Quil. Freely redistributable. Knot suitable for children - choking hazard. Finished 08/05/2013.
M/F Arcanine x Typhlosion: Feral, C/C, Adult, V(NiY).
The gym was stuffier than usual - perhaps because the stuffing itself had been knocked out of each of the four Karate Brothers. ‘Love, Courage, Hope, Tears’ - - how Veilstone Gym’s mantra had been fulfilled, as each once-tough Trainer comforted their defeated teams.
With each of their worn-out Pokemon safely resting in Pokeballs, and each of their four respective tests beaten, the four Black Belt Brothers watched the epic battle unfold on the final stage at the head of the Gym - Challenger versus Maylene.
The Fighting-type focused Gym was a favoured hollow of Trainers seeking both to pursue strength, and to prove they possessed it; and its League Badge - a sign of distinction among Pokemon Trainers - was particularly coveted among the Sinnoh region’s eight that were available. The most dextrous teams - Flying types, Electric types, Water types - usually won with fair ease - after all, their mobility and control naturally eased over the Gym’s many obstacles.
Perhaps perversely, it was often the most tenacious of common Pokemon that faced the toughest challenges - Rock types, Normal types. Their physical strength was not true strength... in living irony, that was what this Gym had been built to prove.
But Veilstone City, where the Gym was found, was only a portion of the way through the Sinnoh League’s circuit, and hence uncommon, out-of-region or fabled Pokemon were something the Gym rarely found itself wrestling to contain. Despite its stature, the average contestant Trainer who made it to Maylene’s ring was mediocre to average; thus, Maylene often held her full power back, to deliver fair testing. After all, that was a Gym Leader’s role.
And so it was that this particular fight that Maylene fought with all her power, and that her four guarding Karate Brothers watched, was one that grabbed particular attention.
A crippling strike from Maylene’s Machamp - a tough, superhuman bipedal bruiser - launched the Challenger’s Zangoose from the ground, the bristling mustelid’s attempted parry overwhelmed. The sickening crack of its chin meeting Machamp’s fist reverberated around the old wooden beams of the Gym, and the Trainer visibly flinched.
“Good job, Machamp!”
A flash of red. Zangoose dematerialised, returned to rest back inside its Pokeball.
On the Trainer’s belt, three Pokemon remained battle-ready, psyching themselves up in unison in their Pokeballs. On Maylene’s team, the Machamp stood proud in the centre of the arena - and one further Pokeball waited on her belt - her Meditite having been downed convincingly by a Carnivine - before Machamp’s arrival had destroyed Carnivine, Polywrath and Zangoose with impunity.
The Challenging Trainer was frustrated by now, having half his team destroyed by the Fighting-Type.
“Go, Skarmory! Finish this!”
“Get ready, Machamp!”
This time, the steel-clad bird, Skarmory, won with ease. Its supreme mobility confounded the Machamp - the bird flitted around each punch, backed away from the bruiser’s rushing charges; and as Machamp stumbled in the beginnings of exhaustion, a hologram of the steel-winged bird burst into life - as Skarmory used Double Team to dodge a flurry of jabs from the four-armed bruiser. The Machamp span around - and Skarmory rematerialised behind it, slamming a vicious Air Cutter into the fighter’s back; Machamp slammed into the ground with a convincing thud.
“Way to go, Skarmory!”
“Rest easy, Machamp! That’s all!”
Finally, Maylene’s Lucario arrived on the field. It stood in a calm stance, paw outstretched, watching. A heartbeat passed - Skarmory’s holograms burst to life once more.
A dozen cloned Skarmories rushed towards the standing jackal.
They rushed in a flurry, sweeping towards the Lucario - and with a roar, the blue-furred jackal launched an Aura Sphere.
The plasmodic aura whistled through the air, slamming hard into one of the steel birds.
The holograms vanished, as the true Skarmory flew backwards - its armoured body slamming into and cracking a wooden pillar. It slumped grossly to the floor, and the Trainer hurriedly returned it to its Pokeball, wincing.
Two Pokemon left. The Lucario returned slowly to its stance, standing wordlessly in front of its Trainer - and in their meta-space, inside their Pokeballs, the Challenger’s Kadabra and Typhlosion waited, bristling with Psychic energy and furious flames respectively.
“Kadabra, take it down!”
“Atta boy, Lucario!”
Kadabra appeared on the field in a blaze of white, its metal spoon clutched tightly. The two calm fighters stared at each other from either side of the battle arena - and Kadabra adopted its stance, almost mirroring the Lucario. Neither moved.
“Kadabra, blast it with Psybeam!”
“Lucario, Dark Pulse!”
The light and heat drained subtly from the room, as Lucario collected particles of sheer Darkness around its shadow. The Kadabra glowed with an unnatural radiance, eschewing the light for its own Psychic energies. And suddenly, the two meta-forces were released.
The Typhlosion watched from the Challenger’s belt, anxious in her Pokeball. The blasted energies of each Pokemon coursed through the air - there was a rush of wind and light; static crackled, a storm ripped through the chambers -- and the two Pokemon flew, each thrown backwards by the collision of mutually super-effective attacks.
From her metaspace in the Pokeball, the Typhlosion could sense Kadabra’s will to fight was decimated, but his psychic flare flickered still; he could fight - this wasn’t over! And as her gaze shifted to the other side of the arena, Lucario was already getting back up - his stance weakened and slack, his calm look dented by the grimace on the jackal’s maw.
It was going to come down to one more attack - if Kadabra could take it, they’d win! She watched with grim apprehension...
“Kadabra, return! Go, Typhlosion!”
The metaspace of the Pokeball warped and glowed, and Typhlosion felt the familiar world-twist of being released from her Pokeball. Suddenly, she was no longer in the security of her Pokeball - but facing down a grimacing Lucario. Her four paws were flush to the solid arena floor - and as she stood up on her two thighs, bracing herself to fight, she grinned.
At last - - finally! A chance to prove herself!
Ever since she had finally evolved - with that forgiven reluctance on behalf of her trainer - she had been cooped up, stuck in her Pokeball, healed again and again in Pokemon center after Pokemon centre; rarely emerging, cramped, trophied like something fragile. But now, she was out - - and she would show her Trainer what she could do! She would finally prove to him she could fight!
The familiar flames of her body burst from the vents on the back of her neck, and she allowed adrenaline to soak through her as she waited for the command to attack.
This was it, at last! And at a vital moment - against the last Pokemon of the final trainer, the Leader, in a Pokemon Gym!
She took in a deep breath, her fires burning... and waited patiently, breathing out.
Maylene called out.
The Typhlosion blinked, still waiting.
Her calm breath quickened, quivering imperceptibly.
In front of her, ten metres or so away, the Lucario summoned an aura, spinning it above him. It coalesced slowly into rock, turning from blue to brown to dusty earth - and still no order came from her Trainer. Her ear twitched. What in the name of Moltres - -
The Rock Tomb formed to completion in the Lucario’s deft, aura-manipulating hands.
She had time to take one more breath. It ran through her maw, sliding along her tongue, down her throat. It filled her lungs, swelled her furred chest.
As the massive chunk of solid earth flew through the air towards her; the size of her body, an ear twitched, the reflex action pressing the blue-furred tip back, in fear.
Still no order came from her Trainer -- and, eyes wide, she whipped around.
He was crouched over Kadabra, his eyes - void of feeling - meeting hers for the fragments of a second she could recall. The purple potion in his hand was still spraying healing pores over the body of the lying Psychic-type, the liquid glowing as it touched the fur and flesh, easing his wounds...
She was shunted forwards by the bone-cracking impact of rock to her back, and her flame-vents shut down. The pain didn’t come. She felt cold.
Her body flew uncontrolled towards the back of the arena; behind her crouching trainer, a wooden pole filled her vision - the air span, her body tumbled over Trainer and Kadabra, and her skull set to meet the solid totem.
She had just enough time to feel the icy clutch of realisation, before the impact ceased her senses, snuffed her consciousness. Her body slumped head-first to the floor, behind the Trainer; she fell gracelessly to the floor, as Kadabra began to stand once more.
The Typhlosion dematerialised into her ball, and the Trainer rose - commanding Kadabra back to the battle.
“And that’s all you can recall?”, chimed the Chingling, its black scarf hanging loosely in parallel with the blue ribbon that hung from its floating bell-body. She pushed her snout into the blue flesh of the Oran Berry, letting the flavoured juice tease her dry tongue again; in front of her, the small Loudred silently produced another from the sack on his back, his matching black scarf more neatly resting in a smooth triangle, somewhat more impressive than his partner’s - even though it was nestling below a rather massive and gaping mouth.
Small, hard, round seeds bursting with flavour seperated from the flesh of the life-giving Berry as she chewed on the soft insides of the thick fruit, desperately hungry. With wordless thanks, she took the fourth berry that the Loudred had now offered her - the kind members of the Rescue Team having teased the story from her in between food and refreshment.
She looked down at the fourth berry in her two paws, before wiping some of the loose juice that stained her maw off from her snout, to speak again. Her voice was returning properly now that she had eaten; she could almost feel the strength in her body returning. Almost. It wasn’t enough to overcome the feelings of confusion and sadness that sapped her.
“It’s... all I can remember from the battle,” she whispered. Her voice was sweet and soft, floating from the strong-set maw.
“He hadn’t even wasted the time to heal me... he just let me go. Put me inside the PC, and then vanished...” She chewed, taking another bite. “The last thing he said to me, as I disappeared from the PC metaspace... well, it was...”
Her heart was beating in her chest; she could feel it. But no warmth spread through her body.
The Loudred looked forlornly up at the Chingling as the Chingling looked down at him.
“What did he say?”
The smallest ghost of a self-deprecating smile curved at the corners of her golden muzzle.
“You were cuter as a Quilava, was what he said. ‘You were cuter as a Quilava’. Without a word of thanks... as he put me out here, in the cold. He said that to me.”
She looked up at the Chingling, the rescuer’s Oran berry falling from her paw, to rest between her spread thighs. She was still smiling, with empty eyes.
“I didn’t matter to him at all, I think.”
“It’s not often Trainers release their Pokemon, Typhlosion. I’m sorry.”
In the half-lit rock-tunnel that bridged Celestic Town and Eterna City, deep in the depths of Mount Coronet - the rising, massive peak that divided Sinnoh in two - the Typhlosion had crawled to rest, against a rock bluff next to a clear pool of rainwater.
Night had fallen after the longest day she had ever endured. Lost, alone, and numb -- released and wild, for the first time since her childhood. Instinct had forced her south at first; from Veilstone City, she had soon found herself at the shores of Lake Valor, a water-type haven.
And yet, even with her energy to battle drained completely, other Pokemon had avoided her; but that was okay. She was used to being on her own. Tenacity was a good thing, it seemed.
She had dipped her feet in the waters of the lake as she sat by the its edge.
She thought about sinking into the waters.
She decided not to.
Hours had passed; meaninglessly, she had headed north, back through the rough, uncharted forest. Soon, the sun had fallen, then waned, then set. The moon had risen - and the dark woods had become cold.
In the dark night, she had thought about igniting the flares on her back; if nothing else, just for the warmth. She was cold.
She had decided not to. She wasn’t really feeling the cold.
Bypassing towns, paths, cities and rivers, she had finally found herself rising up slopes and hills. As she walked further, she climbed higher - snow had started to fall, and soon the ground had been covered with ice, making each step freezing against her aching paws as she crunched through frozen vegetation.
Her thighs had burned with exhaustion -- then even that feeling, too, had collapsed to numbness.
She half-heartedly clambered up rocks and bluffs, pressing herself into the snow-covered rocks, scraping her paws and fur. But the cold had still not mattered... for a while.
On the freezing slopes of Mount Coronet at midnight, in her half-fogged mind, she had suddenly realised... she wouldn’t survive a night outside.
The thought hadn’t mattered too much without her trainer. But as her body seemed to shut down, she had pulled herself into a cave opening. It had been dark. She had tripped. She had fallen down rough rocks, tumbling down levels of stone and earth.
The pain hadn’t mattered, really.
And finally, she had rested - lying there bruised and battered against the rock-face, her legs splayed into a pool of rainwater.
Still the cold had not really mattered, as she fell to sleep, drained. Consciousness dissipated and faded, but instinct had bubbled up through her body.
As the last of herself dissappeared, a small will had sparked - delirious sleep overtaking her as she ignited her flares, engulfing herself in a life-giving warmth.
The fires roared through the night as she fell to an exhausted, empty, consciouslessness.
It was only to Chingling and Loudred, the Black Rescue Team, that she had awoken - and she wondered what might have happened if she had not given herself that warmth; and if they had not spared the Sitrus Berries and Apples and Oran Berries that they had.
Then she had told them her story; for the first time admitting the facts to herself, as well as them. The realisation that she was no longer a Trainer’s Pokemon had been slow to hit home. She was wild, and had to look after herself.
She knew that she was dirty, dusty, dishevelled and weak; her pride she had welcomed their help - with their food and company, she began to pull herself back from the brink.
The cream-and-gold furred Typhlosion pressed her muzzle into the soft flesh of the fourth Oran Berry, licking the sweet juices from the side of her muzzle, talking with Chingling and the silent Loudred.
Over time, she had pulled herself up more comfortably against the rocks; as she had grown more comfortable, she had even found herself dipping her paw into the fresh pools of rainwater and taking a sip from the revitalising spring without truly realising what she was doing.
She laughed, the lilting sound rolling off the rocks as she lifted the water to her muzzle, and Chingling had rattled a pleasant chiming sound along with her.
As she gulped down another, heartier glug of the cool water, she mused on her feelings; resting against the bluff in a cold cave at the base of Mount Coronet. With Chingling beside her, and Loudred in front, she slowly stood up - her gaze sweeping over the cavern.
“Thank you both,” she had smiled, testing her weight on her own weakened thighs. “If it weren’t for you guys - well...”
The Loudred had barked happily as she stood, and the Chingling rattled, speaking warmly -
“Well, I say,” rattled the Bell Pokemon. “You need to take care of yourself. And if we can help you do that - well, it’s our honour!"
It almost beamed with pride, the silly thing. "Are you going to be okay, madam?”
“I’ll be fine,” she had grinned widely. She believed it! “There is one more way you can help me. Can you come with me to the top? Of Mount Coronet?”
“T-to the... Spear Pillar..?”
The Bell Pokemon hung in the air - before it started to bounce on its own hanging ribbon, laughing, the erratic chiming mixing with Loudred’s deep, bassy mirth.
“Sorry, Typhlosion! You won’t get there this time of year - only the Ice-Types can.”
It shook its bell, chiming contentedly. “But you’re near Celestic Town, and it has plenty of hills around - if you’re looking for a hike, or even just to relax, it’s a wonderful place!”
“Thanks, but, well... no.” she sighed, shaking her head. “I need to go.”
The laughing stopped, and the Chingling turned slowly.
“Come on,” he began. “Now you’re being a fool. Spear Pillar isn’t a playground, and the route there is harsh... even in Summer, most folks avoid the path, what what!”
It stared at the Typhlosion, trying to draw her impassive gaze back to itself - - and wobbled, annoyed, as she seemed not to notice.
“I’m serious, Typhlosion! You were lucky we found you... It’s our duty to help, but you won’t find our help further up this mountain -- I mean, Rescue Team members don’t even go there in Winter - worse, we’re not even allowed.”
“I feel like I’ll be fine,” she had chuckled. “I’m not all that naive. I just feel like I’ll find... something.”
She trailed her golden paw against her belly, absently letting the small claw stroke through the fur. ”I know it’s just a feeling. But... I’ll make it.”
I’ll make it.
I’ll make it.
I feel like I’ll be fine.
I’m not naive.
I’ll make it.
The sick words spun and seared like acid in a regretted memory.
The things she had said were as bitter as the cold - the ice, and the frost. She couldn’t even feel the ears on her head - her flames, long since snuffed, wouldn’t reignite; and as she turned from side to side, desperate for a glimpse of some surface, some wall, some shelter from the raging snowstorm, she realised she had long since lost her bearings.
Shuffling through the thick snow was like crawling through mud - and it was a mud that seeped through your fur; it didn’t leave you dirty, but frozen and cold. It was as white as the air around her, muting the difference - only the glistening of fresh flakes touching down seperated the world from the impetuous sky. The storm was meeting the earth like a hammer and anvil of ice, and she had found herself between the two.
The storm had dropped onto the mountainside quicker than any Pokemon could have predicted. The cold and snow had piled up first; the route up Mount Coronet had been easy and gentle, but the higher she climbed and scrambled, the higher the snow had lain around her feet - before long, she had found herself plowing through fields of snow as high as her thighs.
And then the storm had fallen.
The clouds smothered the landscape - choking the light, melting everything to grey, assaulting her with wailing wind.
She had fallen over as the blasting wind’s chill slammed into her - tumbling through snow that had smothered her flame-vents, ice resting in her fur - melting, chilling, seeping... and now, here she was; rasping breaths sucking on ice, the flame in her belly fading down to embers, body battered by hail and snow and wind, and all she could hear was enveloped by the roar of the wind -- as she chased down an incessant rustling, the only sound of life, and her last hope before turning back.
The unstoppable rustling had been getting louder; she was desperate to know she had been getting closer. It was the sound of an impossible forest, grinding through the snow - and trees meant shelter, or water - or any host of comfortable alternatives to the reality of here and now.
She pictured Darkrai’s shadowy body, and shivered; her lithe, young body was strong, but she knew that she needed shelter. If this rustling noise wasn’t the way out... she had no idea where to go.
Shadows were forming in the clouds; her thighs powered through the snow, rushing her breathlessly towards something - slow, massive, moving in jerky, random movements...
Even if it was a wounded, Mew-damned Mamoswine, she’d take it on for its warmth - though... the shadow in the clouds was a little small to be a Mamoswine.
Dammit all. She’d gut a Piloswine if she needed to.
She rubbed her eyes, wincing as the icy fur met her sensitive face, trying to see through the roaring storm ---
It was a tree.
She blinked, gasping, swallowing ice, before the realisation clicked.
… the tree was being dragged.
Her heart ignited. Her thighs began to drive forwards once more, forcing through thickening snow; exhaustion squeezed at every muscle in her body, but the fire inside sparked, fuelling her on.
“HEY!”, she cried - numb paws desperately grasping at the canopy of the young pine-tree, falling forwards, stumbling in the snow - her cream belly flopping down onto the fragile trunk, the Typhlosion scrambling weakly back up, grabbing at the wood for support - - something caved, and her arm fell through the branches; she tumbled once again, feeling something snap beneath her.
The trunk of the tree collapsed in two. She blanched.
There was a powerful roar - a roar that, for a moment, shattered even the storm.
Something squeezed around the back of her neck.
Then there was nothing.
She shivered, clutching the fur of her sides around her. It wasn’t enough... the blizzard outside was tumultuous, and she could feel the rushing stings of circulation all-too-slowly returning to her body.
But, at least, even the cold cave was warmer than out there in the storm.
At the back of the short, rocky shelter, the Arcanine rolled to his back on the glowing rockbed, where he’d warmed the cave floor with a vicious Flamethrower, contentedly stretching out; she watched him enviously, still shivering, as his shoulders rolled against the heated stone.
She tried again to reach the fires inside her -- but the muted flames struggled to burst alive, and her muzzle poured out a jet of merely tepid air.
She was far too cold. Fighting off a wave of exhaustion, she held back frustrated tears. Why couldn’t she shoot a flame?
This was why her trainer had chucked her out, wasn’t it? At a more desperate time than ever, she was too weak to even light a flame... slouching back, she slid further down onto her back. Her thighs twitched in her field of view, and a small tongue of flame licked out from her muzzle, singing the air a foot in front of her face.
“What’s the matter, girl-? You’re a Typhlosion, not a Flareon. You’ve got moves to get yourself warm, right?”
Something snapped. Exasperation flared inside her, and she boiled -
“I don’t know..!”, she spat, shivering violently. “I try, but I can’t... I’m a Typhlosion without a fucking hope, and I’m gonna die out here, and. - - and... he’s never gonna come back for me, and I’m cold, and...”
She closed her eyes, trying to hold back tears that already spattered the ground. Hating the weakness, she shoved her own cream paws into her face, burying herself in the fluffy pawpads.
“I always need something to come along and save me, the poor useless Princess, lazy girl who can’t roast a Beedrill on a stick-... can’t even fight...” She choked on a sob, as her ranting turned into dark mutterings, muted out by wracking heaves as her body twitched.
The tears came slow at first; thick and fat - and she pushed her snout into her paws, the exasperation taking its toll - - but, something warm ran along her cheek, making her twitch once more - this time, in surprise.
The Arcanine was beside her. His grand form and plumage suffused her sight - the warmth of his body flowing between them, like his neutral, husky scent - his forepaw trailing a digit across her cheek.
“At least you’re not a Flareon. Buck up, girl. I can share some heat for the night.”
She looked at him - and swallowed, wiping a final tear away.
“I... I’m sorry. Please... and thanks once more, Arcanine.”
He huffed, offering her a paw; showing off a charming, lop-sided smile.
“You take me too seriously; in a storm like this? Leave a sweet girl like you out there? I should be apologising for knocking you out like that..."
He had a charming grin.
"Take my damn paw, and come on over.”
It wasn’t long before she had settled down on her side on the still-glowing patch of rocks at the back of the cave, where strands of the Arcanine’s fur still lay. His paw coaxed around her side, squeezing reassuringly at her belly - as he pressed his weight half against her; the soft fur of his chest blanketing around her back, his chin close enough to her neck to let her feel the warmth of his quiet breathing as it rolled over her snout.
It was warm. Soft. Sweet.
“You know,” she whispered. “When I woke up, I thought I’d died.”
“Yeah?”, he breathed back.
“Wasn’t even the first time that day. Yeah.”
She felt him laugh, his soft-furred chest grinding against hers.
“I’ll be honest, Typhy-thing, when you broke my tree? That I had dragged all this way?” He chuckled harder. “I considered it.”
“Ah, but I couldn’t possibly harm a lady. And I thought you must have an amazing story.”
Resting on the searing rocky ground, she watched the blizzard storming outside the entrance to the cave - the ice and snow whirling, meshed with the erratic roars of the searching, senseless winds.
The snow couldn’t harm her now... she smiled at last, tucking herself back against the Arcanine, twitching a thigh--
“Oo-oof-”, grunted the Arcanine.
She winced, as her leg ground between his thighs that he had rested over her.
“Augh- sorry, Arcanine-”
“I-it’s okay. I can take a hit, but -- for your own comfort tonight, please - move your thigh away from those. Those two are important to me.”
She looked down - - then swallowed, quickly looking back up, feeling a small heat of a new kind whirl in her belly, and shifted her body.
“S-sorry,” she whispered...
“Y-yeah... it’ll be fine.”
She dreamed that night.
Eyes travelled up the powerful body close to her snout, as her muzzle rested against the thick knot at his base.
The wide shaft played against her tongue as she rolled the muscle against it, collecting his flavour, feeling the shape--
she riding his body, her thighs straddling his lower belly -
he was humping those thighs upwards, pushing him into her; she was stretched, it felt so... satisfying-...
on all fours; his body, warm, pressed down against her; a forepaw on the back of her shoulder, sheath full and thick and swollen and his shaft pushing out, sliding against the fur of her body; finding her entrance - sliding, pushing in-
deep warmth and
She woke jarringly -- as if she had fallen from the whole mountain, her eyes cracking open - and she relinquished her the grip around the Arcanine’s belly, scrabbling away from him.
Her body twisted and turned, as the scenes of the dream played in her mind. Her paws fought for purchase on the smooth-rocked floor, then found it; her body moved before her mind had even truly awoken.
Reality came back into focus in bits and pieces, the dream playing in superfine detail, superfast; coursing through her memory, like the adrenaline pumping through her blood. Panting she pushed against the walls of the cave, rescuing her breath; confusion rolled through her, and she slumped down against the walls of the warm cave, thighs spread, as her forepaws squeezed at her neck, massaging her own body.
She caught her breath, panting for a minute or two. Something had burst inside her; something emotional, but purely carnal. Something had shot through that dream, melding reality and desire and imagination.
Mew... what in Sinnoh...
She looked over at the sleeping Arcanine, lying on his back at the back of the cave; at some point, he must have rolled off from beside her. Gazing over him, she could see it all … the muscles that almost rippled beneath the sleek, silky, orange fur - stripes of black and flumes of fluff that caressed his body.
As she watched him sleep, the dream continued to roll over and over in her memory. Her breathing slowed as she grasped hold of reality again; slyly watching his body
It wasn’t the cold night air that made her shiver.
She watched the Arcanine’s chest rise and fall, his heavy breathing hardly laboured; watching the languid power in his chest that - deep inside - she knew held a fire so stoked that something in her heart and head wondered half-idly... would she stand the heat?
Her gaze shifted, and she watched the sky through the cave entrance for a while. Stars, bright, dim, white and yellow, were glowing in the cloudless visage - shining, on the other side of a veil of still-roaring snow. The icy rain-flakes seemed like falling stars, for a while. The blizzard had long since stemmed, it seemed, but the cave was dark, now - - the glowing rocks warmed by the Arcanine’s flares had long since faded.
She looked away, admiring the sleeping Arcanine once more. She slid her paw away from her neck - only half-trying not to think about her dream, as she glanced down between his thighs.
The bulge of furred flesh, his sheath, bumped out from his body, and for a while her gaze settled on it - imagining what was hidden inside him.
She remembered the feel of her thigh sliding along the smooth-furred mound before they’d slept.
Images from her dream returned; sliding her muzzle down his length, resting her maw against his knot - - even as her eyes glanced even lower, admiring the curves of the orbs she’d so rudely twitched against, spying on the Arcanine’s secreted maleness.
He was... attractive.
He shifted in his sleep, rolling back onto his side. That large, fluffy tail swished upwards, once; it almost brushed against her snout, and she flinched - before chuckling to herself, and she tried to look at him once more.
But as his fur and fluff fell languidly down, the fluff of his tail covered right over the two treasures she’d just been eying.
She smiled. Convenient...
Her paw sunk down from her own neck, rolling across her own belly. She bit her lip, watching the Arcanine sleep, failing to put his … maleness out of her mind.
She had woken up in the dark cave. Fire had been burning - a small, rough campfire, hewn from chunks of pine.
Pine had been the last thing she had seen - a broken trunk of pine in a raging snowstorm, she remembered. She had remembered the jaws closing around her neck... now there was just a small cut, half-scarred on the side of her neck.
Her slim paw absently graced over her belly, as she remembered everything.
The Arcanine had introduced himself with nothing but apologies. And she had darted to him - wrapping her paws around his neck, hugging his yapping muzzle.
He was the first Pokemon she had seen since the Chingling and Loudred... and he had become the most beautiful thing in the world; he’d saved her life... if a little accidentally, she didn’t care.
Her paw sunk lower and lower down her belly - meeting moist fur.
She glanced down; blushing furiously in the warm cave.
Oh Arceus... she’d...
A single digit of hers pressed lower, pushing gently against the small mound almost hidden in her fur. Her body was warm, but the touch was rare... almost alien, and she rolled her touch across the slick, subtle bulge, messy with her own fluid-
Yeah... she had.
She glanced across at the Arcanine once more, biting her lip again; admiring his body, his figure, his thighs, his tail - - and the memory of the things his tail was hiding from view, as she pushed against herself, sliding a digit between the sleek, fleshy bumps.
She jolted gently, as her furred digit brushed against slick, sensitive muscle; the inside of her body was so alien to her, and she couldn’t resist the building desire to explore.
Her tongue darted against her lips, imagining the tastes and flavours of his body as her dream wrestled everything from her mind, watching the Arcanine, imagining; as she slid her digit even further into herself, spreading herself gently.
She mewled, the quiet sound bouncing from the rocks of the cave - a restrained, desperate sound.
The itch for which there was no cure was building up to desire, and as the tight, smooth, warm and moist muscles of her body squeezed against her digit, she needed more - joining herself with a second finger, one that stretched her further, but drew closer to the need inside her.
That need was burning as she slid herself in - knowing it wasn’t enough, wasn’t deep enough, wasn’t everything, wasn’t anything! - - and pulled out; the Typhlosion’s own golden paw pushing at the folds of her own body, the scenes in her mind racing, dreaming- - pleasure bursting --
There was a new fire inside, this time.
She began to slide herself in and out again and again, the Typhlosion’s back-flares sparking into ignition in the pleasure.
She spread and tilted the two digits as she pushed, trying, needing the feeling deeper inside her - - but unable to stoke the flames in her depths, too deep, always deeper- But it felt like rushing, speeding towards even greater pleasure, and she couldn’t stop now -
She couldn’t hold back the fantasies.
Riding his belly, letting him grind himself against her... His powerful body would push himself into her, and she pushed herself back against him-
She closed her eyes, tilting her head backwards, as she toyed with her own moist entrance, muffling the mewls and soft moans as -
Oh god, she...
The softest moan she had ever heard herself give mewled from her own muzzle.
She felt herself squeezing against her own paw; the fire was spreading through her body; something warm seeped against her things, and she felt fluid run... oh Arc.. arc..-
She fell back to all four paws, shaking; flopped over, incapacitated, a long, low mewl escaping her weakened, shivering maw, as the heat swelled through her body, enveloping her - she gasped, biting a lip down... Arceus...
As she rested on her side, on the floor of the cave, flooded with lust and pleasure and desire, her gaze settled on him.
The pleasure was everything; it glowed inside her like a welcome relief from all the pains, all the stresses. With each breath, it seemed to suffuse her again, and again; and she rested there, watching his chest rise and fall.
She could smell her own lust on her body. That pleasure ebbed slowly, so slowly...
It was some time before the threat of the cold breezes easing through the cave entrance forced her to move - but she swallowed, picking herself up. The sleeping Arcanine had barely moved, but his powerful body was as impressive as ever.
The dream still played in her mind as she stretched out, trying to ignore the messy state of her body - and with a little shy trepidation, she licked the strange-flavoured liquids from her paw. She licked her lips, anxious - tasting her flavour again - and then gently wriggled her smaller, lithe body against his, squeezing her blue-furred back against his larger furred belly, resting against him as he lay on his side.
He growled, lightly; a playful rumble, resting his chin against her warm neck.
A nice dream? she wondered.
With the warmth of his body enveloping hers, It wasn’t long before she sunk back to sleep.
Bet it isn’t as good as mine was, Arcanine...
“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna tell me you can’t climb that!”
The Arcanine grinned down at her, his face peering over the edge of the cliff-edge above her.
But as she clung to the lip of the outcrop, her thighs scrambling desperately, just a few feet below him and where the lip ended this section of the climb - - and many, many dozens of feet above their last resting point - - she was starting to lose the grip on the lessons he had taught her, wide-eyed and heart racing.
“Mikael, please- --!”
“Awh... you silly thing. Come on~”, he laughed once more. “Stop messing around with your thighs and reach up for the -”
Her paw slipped from the outcrop, and he silenced himself, flopping over the edge of the cliff and driving forwards. With rough, graceless strength, his paw lanced towards her remaining grip - the Arcanine’s black pawpad squeezing around her wrist - and held her fast, scrambling backwards with his thighs to pull her up the cliff-face.
She barely had time to scream out before she was already resting beside him over the final icy lip of the mountain edge, panting and gasping.
“I-I - I …”, she stammered.
“Easy … e-easy,” he consoled her. “You made it.”
“Doesn’t matter. Made it.”
“I dun- -don’t even know Rock Climb-”
“Me neither,” he panted. “H-hey... maybe... Wait, nah.”
The sun was high and hot, and the snow over the higher, jagged and unfriendly peaks of Mt Coronet had largely receded. Some distance up, Mikael the Arcanine, and the nameless Typhlosion, both rested; the rough climb up the mountain was a tough course, and she had never done even a single thing as intensive in her life.
Her arms ached. Her thighs ached. But most importantly of all - she’d found out she was afraid of heights, to the Arcanine’s endless mirth.
“M-maybe what?”, she stammered.
Mikael rose to all fours slowly, stretching out like a large cat - and she watched, grinning despite herself. He was adorable when he stretched.
“Maybe we should have taken the path.”
… her grin vanished.
“There’s a path.” she stated flatly, incredulous.
His head tilted. An ear flicked.
“Nah, I’m messing with you.”
That same cheeky grin. Bastard, she thought.
“Not until we’re nearer Spear Pillar are you gonna find clearer or easier ground. But hey, you could always go back the way you came,” he gestured, nodding back at the lip of the cliff he had just pulled her over.
“I mean, you’re the girl who wanted to go, I’m just a guide.”
His cheeky grin only grew wider. “I can find some easier routes if you like. You gotta promise me something, though!”
“Fine, just... they don’t have to be easy, just... nothing scary, like that was, okay?”
“Gonna promise me something?”
“Depends what you want, doesn’t it?” she drawled, rolling onto her side. She tried to look irritated - but his boyishness was charming the frustration out of her.
“Nothing big, girl; just your name. C’mon, you know mine.”
“... Oh. Well...”
“I told you already... I never got one. I was always just Typhlosion. Never had a nickname.”
“Yeah,” he said, padding over towards her. She flicked her ears as his maw pushed against her cheek - his reassuring nuzzle was a warm gesture, and the fluff of his mane was welcoming and soft. “You told me you never got a nickname, but you never told me your name.”
“I...” she paused, then laughed. “You make no sense, Arcy.”
“Don’t you get it, girl?”
“Mikael, I really haven’t got a clue. I was never given a nickname,” she shook her head, mock-exasperated. “That’s the truth of it.”
“I believe you. But... your name is yours! It isn’t the name someone chooses to give you. That’s just words, it’s just a sound!”
She raised an eyebrow, as he paused, then continued.
“It’s a symbol, yeah... but if you don’t have a name, or if you choose to get rid of your old one, well, aren’t you always gonna be the best person available to give yourself an identity, eh?”
He nuzzled into her ears again. “Eh? You don’t need to be given a name. So what’s your name?”
She tried to hold back the laughter. He was so excitable, and his fluffy maw and snout nuzzling into her was so warm and soft... but he was so serious. It was a bizarre and almost mysterious mix; and his constant nuzzling was almost pushing her over. How could she think?
“Ha-.. ah.. q-quit tickling me for a sec...”
“Awh...”, he grinned, mock-whining. But he rested back on his hind legs beside her.
She admired him for a second. Even sitting down, he was as tall as she was while standing...
“... That’s quite a romanticist’s idea you’ve got going, you know.”
“Oh, I can be romantic,” he grinned.
“I mean... ideology - - oh, for Arceus’ sake...”. She bit on her fist, trying to hold back the laughter at his charming childishness.
“Well, if you won’t tell me your name, can you at least tell me why you want to go to Spear Pillar so badly?”
“I-I told you that, too!”
“Yeah, you said you had a feeling you’d find something, but you didn’t say what.”
“That’s because I don’t know what the ‘something’ is, mutt...”
“Haha... maybe you’ll find your name,” he chuckled, pawing softly at the snow and dirt.
She shivered, gasping with relief as his silhouette swelled in the visage of the storm outside. His tail broke through the icy curtain of snow first - as Mikael erratically jerked backwards into the cave, odd growling noises echoing off the rocks, his strained steps in time with the bobbing of his head -
- and she held back laughter, her silken chuckles melting in with his throaty, efforted growls, as Mikael dragged the trunk of a small tree into the cave. The leaves of the canopy bristled and whistled with the snowstorm -- before with a final, powerful yank, the Arcanine brought the trunk stiff, jamming the canopy in the rocky entrance, lodging the entrance of the cave shut.
“B-bet you’ve never seen that before,” he panted, triumphant.
“Yeah, I never saw a man hold something so large in his mouth.”
“... Well, at least you didn’t break it this time, clumsy. I drag these trees a long damn way.”
It was completely dark; even the wraith-light of the moon through the snowstorm was cut off from the cave by the jammed tree.
To her, though, it didn’t matter - she was just happy to be with him again. Being around him gave her some odd feeling - as simple a feeling as real safety. The Typhlosion darted forward to wrap her paws around his neck - - but they both yelped out at the contact, and she fell back.
“Mew, you’re cold-!”
“I’m cold? You’re covered in snow!”
“I’ve been out there for an hour - think I hadn’t noticed?”
They were a half day’s climb from the peak of Mount Coronet - the sacred Spear Pillar. But as the air had got thinner, and the day had waned, and after a few more exhausting but easier climbs -- the Arcanine seeking out easier, safer routes after their scare, taking longer to guide her around the mountain, to find gentler, less intensive paths -- they had both quickly agreed that it had been time to find shelter for the night.
It hadn’t been easy - this high up, ice formed fast on the rocks, and even the heat of full noon barely made an impact on the deepening carpets of snow that coated the most exposed parts of the mountain. And it wouldn’t be enough to just blaze the cave walls and sleep in the warmth - the temperatures outside froze the berries on the trees, and would sap the heat out of the cave fast. No; what they needed was fire.
“You know, you only had to collect firewood...”
“I don’t do much by halves, Typhy.”
“Don’t get me wrong...”, she smiled, even in the pitch dark and cold. “I’m grateful. For the tree, but also for everything, really.”
The temperature and exhaustion had long since sapped the fire from her belly, and her powers of fire - untrained as they were, by her Trainer’s negligence - rested as no more than an ember deep inside her. Mikael’s deeper, stronger flare was tempered, but still alive - and as she felt around in the dark, ripping twig, branch and bark from the frozen tree-trunk, he began to pile the woodcuts up behind, defrosting them with the warmth of his paws.
The muted storm raged outside, and the darkness grew more complete - the cold grew more insidious, until the Typhlosion couldn’t feel the digits of her paws, the numb hands barely registering the bumps of bark on the trunk of the tree that she was peeling apart.
“Mikael, I...”, she swallowed, starting to feel a thump in her head. Cold...
“It’s okay, girl. You’ve got enough wood.. it’ll last the night,” he reassured her, his still-warm breath brushing against the dimming sensitivity of her neck - making her body tingle, as her fur tried to react - tried to trap his warmth against her.
“Come on, lie down.” His voice - so calm, so warm.
She bit her lip, trying to contain a feeling that built inside her.
“Typhy?” So concerned... so caring.
She took a deep breath, letting the cool air roll over her tongue, fill her lungs. In the darkness, she knew he wouldn’t see the tear - but she clenched her eyes shut all the same, her numb paw squeezing at the tree-trunk in front of her, grasping around for support.
“Nothing -- I’m fine.”
Mikael was silent as she felt the heartbeats in her own chest. The wind outside rampaged.
“It’s just cold,” she continued. “Can we get the fire going?”
“... … Sure.”
The faint glow of his muzzle shone in the cave as she turned around to face him - a will-o-wisp seeping from his maw to nestle itself in the pyrestack, searing the kindling into flame.
As the blaze began to lick at the kindling shavings, searing upwards through the scraps of bark, licking upward to coax and tickle at the frozen chunks of trunk - - she felt herself slumping slowly against the cave wall behind her, the warmth rolling over her in waves that ebbed and flowed with the growing fire.
The newborn tounges of flame lit the rocky cave in a molten amber glow, and as the newborn flames shimmered, the welcoming light swelled and flickered - gently lifting the shadows of the cave.
Behind the fire, Mikael stood on all fours, watching. She smiled.
Bathed in that dim, golden light; cast in flirting shadows, she could see him panting - the vapours swirling upwards to vanish, as his powerful body drew on welcome breaths of warmth; his thighs were carved and strong, and his tail and mane were pearlescent in the firelight... she recalled the feeling of his soft, deep fur, as the fluffy tail flicked behind him, brushing against the walls.
She rolled her shoulders for comfort, her blue-furred back resting against the wall behind, as she spread herself by the fire - watching Mikael closely, admiring his body once more - as she had done a few days ago.
The memory of a dream...
“Mikael... sit beside me?”, she murmured.
The Arcanine blinked, his tail flitting.
The flames rippled like waves.
Slowly, the Arcanine began to pad around the firestack - and she watched his body unfold, the thighs and calves stretching out with each tempered step. His paws spread themselves out against the floor with each step, and as he stepped over her to rest beside her, she quickly reached out - grabbing, squeezing one of his thick, furred paws between two of her own.
His paw felt good between hers. It felt...
She guided it down to her shoulder as she relaxed against the wall of the cave, keeping his paw against her with one soft grip... reaching up to stroke his mane, curling her digits around his strong snout...
Mikael stayed still, tingling from the pleasant touch - his quiet breathing rolling under the sounds of the crackling fire behind them, the firelight throwing a display of dancing shadows against the rocks behind them. His tail, slowly swishing, began to sweep the flames in a tantric rhythm - flicking suddenly as her short, Typhlosion fingers caressed the soft fur below his chin, the slender digits sliding through the silken, tiger-plume fur, brushing against the sensitive flesh of his neck...
“Thanks for looking after me, Mick.”
The touch was soft and tender. He purred - low, and quiet - gently curling his other forepaw forwards as her own paw trailed up, resting on his cheek. Slowly, the Arcanine stepped over her smaller body, standing above the sweet Typhlosion, as her other paw finally let go of his - and instead curled softly around the back of his neck.
She giggled; her deep, marine eyes exploring his own. He felt her explore the shape of his maw with a soft, deft touch, as something -- something new -- fluttered inside him, revelling at the gentle contact... He watched her lean forwards, tugging softly at his neck...
Her laugh... he loved that sound, and he loved the happiness in her ice-blue eyes.
He brought his muzzle down to hers, and she pushed upwards - her lips meeting his, paws squeezing at the back of his neck.
It was an awkward kiss.
His muzzle was larger than hers, and his weight was resting on paws that straddled either side of her body... it didn’t matter, like the cold, and the cave, or the context.
As she pushed her lips to his, he could feel the warmth inside her; as his maw twitched, pushing back against her, she could feel the slightest quivering, starting to run through his body.
With her paws caressing the back of his neck, he couldn’t resist... his muzzle opened gently, her lips spreading to meet them; their tongues met, her thickened taper sliding against his wider, flat, canine tongue...
She could feel the rumbling building in his chest, rolling through his neck and her soft paws that played against it... she squeezed, his silky fur running between her fingers, even as she pushed herself closer to him. His lips coaxed gently at her tongue, and his own was rolling and wrapping against and around hers -- he felt so warm, so fluffy, so gently comfortable...
The fire inside her began to spark, ignited.
Her tongue played along his, the gauche and awkward contact instinctive, carnal, but powerful... until finally, slowly, reluctantly, their muzzles broke apart amidst a twin, deep, slow intake of warm breath - their eyes exploring each others’, as the flames flicked ever higher, roaring behind them.
Their eyes met, as their lips divided.
His paw eased down from the cave-wall, where he held his weight; slowly, he fell gracefully to his side beside her... still resting his thigh gently on her, a wide paw relaxed on her breast.
She smiled at him, and he grinned back, letting her cuddle closer - her paws returning to wrap around his neck - and squeezed his own large paws protectively to her back, as she nuzzled into his neck.
As they relaxed again, he rolled slowly to his back, bringing her with him - his paws keeping her warm against his soft, furry chest, the shared heat of their two bodies melting between them.
Beside them, the fire rose even higher, taking hold of the thicker chunks of trunk as the kindling collapsed and crackled beneath it. The heat almost charred the thin, mountain air, soaking into them both - reviving their exhausted spirits, as she rested on top of him, his paws stroking the back of her head, toying with her thick, triangular ears.
He could hear her murmur.
She leant down to kiss him again, straddling his body beneath her - resting her breast against his chest...
Something was different about this - she could feel it, deep inside. She wasn’t sure what she could feel - no burning desire, but something was … well, something was right. Just - plain and simple - it was right.
She nipped at the Arcanine’s neck, hearing him pant, feeling his paw clench just a little tighter at a tuft of her blue fur - his wide, thin tongue licking one of her blue ears - even the flame-vents on the back of her neck starting to char; so sensitive to the touch of Mikael’s paw trailing against her back - - the paw running through the fur, gliding his soft, black pawpad again and again against the hot spots. The feeling just kept her shivering - in ways she hadn’t felt before, in ways she loved.
The tingling ran through her body - it was some pleasant feeling, rolling through her limb by limb, leaving her panting slowly in the heat.
The morning rose on Mt. Coronet. Few Flying-types flew this high - but if a stray Pidgeotto had deigned to fly to just this height, on just this day; and if that Pidgeotto could see through the clouds, and cared enough to look, they might see a cave hidden in the bluffs of the mountain, where a broken tree lay snapped below - as if it had been kicked out from the inside of the rocks.
If that same Pidgeotto had flown down to investigate why a tree might eject itself from the inside of a cave, that Pidgeotto might have flown away quickly - unless it wanted to watch an Arcanine lie on his back besides a Typhlosion, blue paw resting on the fire-dog’s sheath, laughing, sharing stories.
As morning rose on the two Pokemon, the cuddling of last night had turned quickly into morning teasing.
“Yeah... he let me go after he caught me and his girlfriend’s Luxray..-” gulped the Arcanine.
Cute, the Typhlosion thought.
He was embarrassed about the story, even with her paw squeezing at his sheath in reality. That bulge was a lot stiffer than before, she noticed...
“Oh yeah?”, she teased, tilting her head innocently. “Caught you and the Luxray...?”
“H-hey now... that wouldn’t be polite to tell a lady.”
She was impressed... his composure was still so solid, so cool, even though he couldn’t disguise the twitching thigh, the huff in his breath... she gripped a little tighter on the furred bulge still in her paws, teasing his sheath down once more, letting the black musculature inside slide over the tip that poked out from the inside. He can’t hide this forever... she grinned.
She bit a lip, her imagination swarming with ideas - her morning heat buzzing in her stomach, carnality starting to overwhelm her shyness.
Oh Mew, it was going to sound so corny...
“Care to...demonstrate to a lady, then?”, she mewled - then balked, almost instantly embarrassed at how it had sounded.
She turned away, trying to hide the blush. Mikael just laughed, looking down at her with a fierce grin.
He seemed to pause - his bright eyes twitching as he looked her over... she could feel the sheath in her paw gently swelling, rolling back - his length poking out even without her help, the canine tip pushing against her arm--
“That might just be the worst line I ever heard, girl.” he mocked.
She half-sighed - ignoring the mockery - as she guided her paw up from his swollen sheath, her digits running against the side of his growing length. Her chest was fluttering... this was so beyond anything she’d ever done as a mere Trainer’s pet.
… Maybe she could take it further.
“Alright,” she half-grinned, biting her lip -- trying to build up her confidence again, as Mikael’s shaft twitched in her paw... “I’ve got a far better one if you.. lie on your back-?”
The Arcanine laughed... and slowly rolled his body, lying on his back beside the ashes of last night’s pyre. The slow, graceful movement was smooth and fluid... his fur seemed to shimmer like fluffy silk as it caught the light, and she could see the tone of his body beneath the black coating that covered his belly... .
She squeaked in surprise as the Arcanine suddenly rolled right over, taking him with her - her own back pushing down into the cave floor, crunching through the ashes of last night’s fire, as the Arcanine’s paw pushed down hard against her shoulder. The dried wood ash crumbled beneath her, and Mikael grinned playfully down from above - his large ear flicking as she watched him gaze slowly down her smooth, cream-coloured belly...
“I liked the other idea...” he began, leaning down to whisper at her ear. “A demonstration..? It was a little like this.”
She was panting. From beneath his immense body, she felt herself swallowing - fighting back against a feeling of intense heat spreading from inside her... she could see between his splayed legs, the view holding nothing back as the Arcanine’s black length twitched against his silk-furred belly - his weight lowering, as he nudged his muzzle to hers.
His heavy breaths lingered in the air, the warmth and heat of his pants rolling across her fur as he shifted his weight above, hindquarters spreading, looking right down at her with those amazing eyes of his. She felt his manhood poke at her navel; her own fur was caressing his sensitivity, as he ground his warmth against the soft flesh of her belly, butterflies rising inside...
He licked at her large ear, making it twitch and flick. She squeaked, quietly - and blushed harder, clamping her maw shut tight. Dammit-!
Mikael just laughed - softly, quietly. “Cute,” he mocked.
“S-shut the hell up...”
“Attitude, girl. Where’d you get one so fast?” He rocked his body, pushing himself up against her belly, making her gasp out again.
“I ought to...” he continued - pausing to roll his wide, canine tongue between her ears again, smile down at her, and move slowly down to her neck. “...keep you quiet...”
His voice faded; his hips were rolling slowly. She could feel the warmth leaving a slick trail behind on her fur; she didn’t care. Just so long as he kept going... mew, was she thinking like that?
Then, as his muzzle arced a few inches lower, his tongue rolled down, across her neck.
“Mrawh-!”, she squeaked once more, instinct forcing her paws to reach up, wrapping around his neck. Oh!
“Mm, that’s not quiet,” Mikael whispered. “Not complaining, though...”
He rumbled a deep, purring growl as he slid his warm, wide tongue down her furred neck, arching his body backwards; his shaft grinding down past her navel, through silken cream-coloured fur. She hardly noticed the heavy, orange-furred paw tightening against her shoulder; the ashes of the fire cracking beneath her were just ambience to the twin panting. Nothing mattered.
Her paws kneaded and squeezed at Mikael’s firm neck; her untouched, sensitive throat arching, craning up - a willing victim of his touch. Her thighs twitched as he dragged his own legs back, the Arcanine’s length now poking, probing around her hindquarters; her eyes blinked open to watch, as he lined himself up with her, his larger body straddling hers completely.
“... seemed to work,” he whispered, still grinning.
She squeezed his neck, the carnal fire inside muting any response to his boyish teasing. Nrnf!
“Well~!”, he purred, pausing for too many heartbeats - moving slowly, as her paws tugged on his neck again, bowing his body only slightly to her heavy pulls and pushes. “If you insist...”
He pushed forwards.
His body rocked against hers, his paw tightening against her shoulder.
The Typhlosion’s hinds splayed wide as his tip pushed against the soft mound between her thighs, slick and warm, stretching around and squeezing down against him -
“Mrrmm-!”, she mewled - the fire inside burned, desperate. His shaft held a heat even greater than the fur of his body - a welcome warmth.
Mikael grunted, the Arcanine’s weight pushing right down against the Typhlosion beneath him as his manhood slipped inside, pushing into her body. His hips rolled again, pulling his body backwards - and humped him forwards again, sliding himself inside her, her body stretching and coaxing, squeezing and melding.
The slick walls inside her enveloped every new inch, forcing back - and relinquishing.
She could feel that fire-dog’s shaft inside her; the spread of her lips coaxing around the width of his length - her paws squeezed and kneaded against his body, asking for more, gripping and grabbing at the tufts of fur on his back and his quads.
Each roll of Mikael’s hips pushed her down, grinding her against the soft ash of the burnt-out firepit beneath her; the rocks were smooth beneath them, and as Mikael forced more of himself inside her, she couldn’t stop the quiet mewls eking from her throat..
Panting, breathing - heart beating, she curled her thighs up, wrapping them around his hindquarters, pulling herself closer to him as her thighs squeezed up against his belly. He rumbled happily as she clamped down against him - rewarding the Typhlosion beneath with a long lick, as he pushed himself against her.
She could even hear the shlicks of their fluids, the sound of each fresh, slick humping - the Arcanine’s shaft drilling into her body, the sounds melting into Mikael’s panting. More...
The Arcanine grunted again as her thighs squeezed at the sides of his chest, forcing him closer as they dragged him down towards her - rocking back and forth, as his paw coaxed at her shoulder.
Half-feral, he could feel her lips spreading just a bit more with each push forwards - the thicker midpart of his shaft sliding in and out, her clamping walls squeezing down on each buried inch - instinctively, he nuzzled into her neck, growling -- burying his soft nose against her softer flesh.
Shunting forwards, his spare forepaw squeezed at the floor well ahead of her body, arcing his weight forwards. His length nestled inside her, letting her adjust for just one moment - her soft paws were squeezing and tugging at his neck, begging him for it.
He could feel his length twitching inside her, the knot at his base already half-swollen from the heat and senses.
Ferality wanted it inside her... from his new position, he pushed forwards.
She mewled out loud, her body swallowing him down to the knot. Nrgf-! He rocked his hips back, watching her gasp as he slid himself out - and powered forwards again, teasing out another slow mewl of pleasure from her body - a high, whining moan. He loved that sound.
Pulling back, Mikael’s paw kept her still as his thighs rocked and rolled, starting to force himself down, her slick walls squeezing so tightly down against every part of him, caressing his length.
Arceus, she was... squeezing really, really hard.
“Heh... haugh... you’re gonna have to relax, girl,” he breathed, in between hard, heavy panting. “You’re gonna break me inside you.”
“Mrmmm...” The Typhlosion was almost purring. Poor girl - she was a lot more fun than the Luxray.
He might have to keep her around.
Her paws tapped at his neck once more - he could feel her trying to relax, her stiff grip relenting - the walls inside her giving just a little more way for him as she finally settled down against his shaft. Mmf...
He pushed forwards again as she started to stretch around the start of his knot, spreading her just a bit wider, teasing just a few more inches...
The rest of his length teased inside her, coaxing against her walls - tingling, twitching - stimulated by the rising heat of her own body, the same heat that was making the Typhlosion beneath him mewl and pant.
He growled against her neck.
Panting, she knew she couldn’t even speak... trying to relax, to let more of him in, she wriggled; her cream chest meshing and stroking at his furry black belly. His force and humps were grinding him against her, sharing their warmth; his panting and grunting mixed with her own, and most of all, his powerful thighs bumping against hers...
His knot bumped against her lips over and over, demanding entry. The fire inside her needed it.
With each new push and hump, the fire drew closer. His size above her kept her still as she felt him stretch inside her- and just the heat of their bodies was warming up the cave, the air heavy with lust. His knot was huge..!
The memories of a dream...
She shuddered beneath him, an idea filling her up.
Mikael jerked above her, grunting. “Y-you okay, girl?”
“Waurh.. emm... why’d you stop-!?”
“You shook like crazy...”
“B-bast...”, she licked her lips, wriggling, feeling him buried inside her. Oh mew... “Wait...”
She couldn’t help but smile at the thought... this was really going to sound corny.
“You sure you’re okay, girl?”, Mikael grumbled, his thighs twitching. He knew he didn’t... want to stop, but...
… she was grinning?
“You’re not gonna get that in from here...” she purred. “... I want on top.”
Her paw reached around the back of his neck again, tugging her weight up. Mikael blinked.
His shaft twitched inside her, his thighs still rocking. His knot bristled, desperately seeking to plug the length just behind it, tugging with each pull of her body against him - the black length needing to be sated. Fuck it-!
He sunk his paw beneath her, coaxing and stroking her back - and rolled. His body met the floor as she squeezed tight to his neck, his paw keeping her tight to his chest - and his shaft still buried deep, her body resting on his knot, the sweet Typhlosion’s maw gasping -
Then she was there, straddling the dog’s body.
She purred, looking down at herself, the black knot poking out from between her legs, as she curled back, wriggling. Her forepaws buried themselves in his chest-fluff, his forepaws squeezing at her thighs - almost pulling her down onto him...
Just like the dream...
She pushed with her forepaws, raising her hips up, feeling him sliding - so slowly... - almost out of her body. Inches of Mikael, slick with mixed fluid, revealed themselves from inside; the fire inside burned, unsheltered, the need filling her up again - as she felt the tip just start to eke from between her lips.
The Typhlosion looked down at Mikael with a grin, and pushed her hips down, spearing herself on him. Mikael whined.
His face screwed up with pleasure as she half-watched - gasping out herself as she sunk down onto him, his length sliding, thrusting up inside her - his hips bucking upwards, forcing him deep. She pushed her hips again, sliding up - and fell down once more, letting herself bounce and rock on his knot, the Arcanine’s panting and grunting edging her on as she finally felt the fire inside her ready to give, ready to wane, ready to burst -
His knot stretched her entrance as it pushed at her lips, her pushes down half in sync with Mikael’s feral humps upwards. She knew the Arcanine was barely in control - it was on his face.
She was in control... and she loved it.
Her paws gripped and squeezed again at the fur of his chest as she tried to force herself down again, the walls inside her squeezing and clamping around the heated shaft that drilled inside her; the knot beneath her, the thickest, final step, so slick and close to pushing inside - it was the final challenge, and she would take it.
The Arcanine was panting, his cool charade melting. The needy, feral dog was humping upwards; she could feel his length twitching in time with the fire inside her, both desperate to be sated; so close..!
She leant down, feeling his paws meet her shoulders...
With his heavy pawpads squeezing at her slender shoulders, she forced herself down harder than before, desperate to feel that final stretch seal inside, her hips bouncing down - just as Mikael suddenly thrusted upwards.
The tension gave way as the knot squeezed, stretching her, resting on the final moment- she could felt it squeezing in, herself stretching around the width, the pain and pleasure- and the final, hard squeeze as Mikael forced himself upwards, burying himself inside.
He twitched - the knot popped. Mikael’s body arced upwards, forcing her shoulders down against him with his large paws, as his whole length sealed inside, finally meeting the heat inside her; her fires burst, burnt and flared - the heat keeping the giant fire-dog Arcanine’s thighs twitching and rolling.
He mewled, humping up as his peak overtook him; heated seed pulsing inside her, hotter than the overheated shaft she rested on, as he pumped upwards, the knot inside her twitching up and down, rolling and massaging her own walls...
Twitch after twitch... she could feel him fuelling the fire inside, making her body jolt; a pleasure, lancing - oh, Arceus...
Something burst in pleasure.
Mikael felt the Typhlosion collapse forwards against him, shuddering as he thrusted up again and again - something slick leaking into his lap, as his paws slid to her back, holding her against him. Her paw fell around his shoulder, wrapping around his neck - her other paw staying flat against his chest, affection and weariness unmasked completely, weakly grasping and kneading.
His pleasure was strange... melting into the feelings that eked into a consciousness behind a half-feral heat, rushing and jerking through him with each burst and twitch of his peak, her body still rocking above him, milking his length, tight body squeezing...
The length behind his knot seared in pleasure, making his thighs twitch, squeezing the Typhlosion to his body - as his hips began to slow, his body shuddering gently, his slow pants rising into the heated air.
The warm cave was resonant with lust.
Between the rocks of the cave below the summit, resting on top of the Arcanine’s heated body, the Typhlosion’s body shook in weakened pleasure, as the fire-type’s knot tugged weakly between her legs, sealed inside her.
As moments passed, Mikael eyed up the pretty Typhlosion resting between his legs, lying above him.
He paused to breathe, snuffling her ear.
Then, he licked her.
It was unseasonable, really.
But the way the sun was shining, without a cloud in sight, was pretty easily explained as Mikael’s paw lanced back from the collapsing earth at the edge of the cliff.
“I’m an Arcanine, girl; I’m never gonna fall off. I’m just looking.”
She mock-pouted. “Egoist...”, she chuckled, squeezing at his neck.
Mikael looked down, away and beyond the cliff-face. Beneath them, and for miles around, silver clouds stretched over the blurred rock below; the cloud-barrier that they had climbed all the way through had hailed down a storm to try and stop them - - but this time, the two fire-types were both alight.
Since the night before, Mikael had noticed that the Typhlosion’s flamethrowers had been terrifying, scorching the very ice from the rocks they had climbed to get here.
Chuckling, he looked behind him and right back at up her, where she was riding on his back. Her body rose and fell with each step he took; but still - sitting on his back like that, she almost seemed relaxed.
Mikael looked her up and down. “Well, my ego got you riding on me, didn’t it?”
“... No comment, mutt.”
He rumbled, walking on. She mock-kicked his chest.
Above the clouds, it was an easy ride. No snow, no hail, no ice to weather the rocks they walked on; the smooth plateau was cool beneath his paws. It was ethereal; the road to Spear Pillar was like a place untouched; and separated, too, by the barrier of clouds that cut this haven clean away from the Region below.
As Mikael’s paw padded onto the first of the stone-ceramic steps of Spear Pillar’s ruins, the Typhlosion on his back curled around - vaulting off his back, to walk alongside him.
Even though the clouds lived below them, the wind blew fiercely, here. He braced himself for a moment - catching her quickly, as she tripped on a loose and fractured tile, as a gust forced through the ruins.
With her paw resting on him, they walked together - her gaze staring around the munificence of the pillars rising above, as he glanced around the ruined dignity of the collapsed structures.
“Heh,” she laughed. “Mikael?”
“You were right, you know.”
He turned around, the wind whistling through his fur, as she turned to face him in return; the Typhlosion nonchalantly leaning against an ancient pillar, with the alpine winds ruffling the ruff above her thighs, and a smirk languishing on her gold and blue muzzle.
“Mm. About names,” she smirked. Stepping on over towards him, she placed a paw on the side of his snout - it was warm to the touch, despite the cold.
He rumbled, nuzzling it.
“Words are just sounds... they don’t mean anything. My Trainer might never have given me a name, and I might just be “Me” to me...” She paused, reaching under his jaw to stroke Mikael’s soft chin.
“Mrf...”, he mumbled, closing his eyes.
“...and you just keep calling me ‘girl’ all the time, anyway...”, she teased. “But I want a name, so I might as well give myself one. You know, right?”
“I know, right... auck!”
A burst of wind ripped through the pillars, making them both brace as the gust blew. The wind flitted over the stones, twirling - showering them both in ancient grout and ceramic dust.
As the breeze died, and they shook off the debris, Mikael looked the Typhlosion up and down again. Dirty, dusty, but newly confident...
“So, how about ‘Sara’?”, she trilled. He smiled.
“‘Sara’..?” The Arcanine flicked an ear, looking out and away, over the view of Sinnoh. From Spear Pillar, there wasn’t much to see but cloud - but pockets of the green Region could be seen in the far distance, and the sun seemed to shine down on everything out there.
“So...” He milled on the name, purring it out. “‘Sara’... You came all this way to find... a name?”
“No way!”, she laughed, matching his gaze - all the wastes, the clouds, the forests and fields; breathing out in admiration of the sun-brightened view over Sinnoh’s lands, lakes and seas.
“Words are meaningless. I found you, Mik.”
His ear twitched, as he looked right round at her. “What?”
“Aw, c’mon... You don’t mind if I stick around with you for a while, do you?”
She tilted her head once more, resting her paw on his back, waiting for an answer - until finally, he laughed right out loud.
“Babe, I’d take you anywhere with me.” Mikael admitted, grinning. She was way too much fun to leave behind.
Sara raised an eyebrow.
“Sounds about right,” she purred. Her paw began to curl lower on his body, gliding down to below his chest... “I’d like that...”
She squeezed at a bulge between his hinds.
“But first, you should take me here, too.”